


On Human Sexuality & Tony Stark

by bicycles



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coming Out, Discussions of Sexual Discovery, Implied Relationships, M/M, Science Bros, Sexual Identity, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 10:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2384399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bicycles/pseuds/bicycles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony uses a PowerPoint to explain to Bruce his feelings for Steve Rogers, or that time that real life experiences became character meta. This is meant somewhat humorously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tony had the remote in his right hand, as he indicated with the laser a clever illustration of his 'sexuality pyramid.' It was, in a word, a very _elaborate_ explanation of how he, Iron Man, had come to the conclusion that he wasn't an incredibly repressed homosexual. "No, you see, my feelings for Pepper are genuine," he said, circling where this indicated on the white board, "but so are my whatever you call 'ems for Steve..."

He turned to see Bruce who had one of those looks, those annoying, smiling looks on his face. It was as though everything he thought transmitted directly into his friend's brain, which he knew wasn't possible. The Hulk's superpowers didn't include telepathy. "They're _not_ feelings," he said. "I'm not in _love_ with Captain America. God, do you know how stupid that sounds?"

And there was that look, seemingly widening across his best friend's face.

"I wish you wouldn't do that."

"What?" said Bruce, straightening in his chair. He had returned to his placid, serious scientist look. The one that he often gave Tony during talks about - well, pretty much anything they usually talked about, which was _pretty much everything_. 

"You know, that all-knowing self-satisfied stare..."

"Are you projecting again?"

"No." And then, because he definitely wasn't projecting, "As I was saying, it's complicated..." He clicked to the next slide, which was a long list of dates attached to names. "You know, I had that thing with David..."

"Michael," Bruce corrected. 

"Yea, Michael. Have we discussed this before? It doesn't _matter_. It's not uncommon to have these sorts of fluid attractions... I've created this chart to show... You're doing it again."

"I'm sorry..." He didn't think Bruce looked the least bit apologetic, as the other polished his glasses and put them back in place. "But have you thought about just telling Steve?"

"Telling Steve - telling him what?" Tony's hand wavered on the remote button, unsettled. He knew exactly what Bruce meant, but that didn't mean he was going to make this easy. 

"That you're in _love_ with him?" 

"I'm not -"

"Tony, for fuck's sake, you don't need a PowerPoint on your budding sexual attractions, or whatever the hell this is... And might I remind you I'm not your therapist? I thought Pepper had reiterated this... But if I were..."

"I know you're not my therapist. You're my best friend. This -" He waved to the PowerPoint. "- is clearly within best friend protocol."

"Yea," said Bruce. "Yea, okay. But if I were your therapist, I'd say you should talk to Steve."

"Not this again." Tony tossed the remote onto his desk and paced the front of the room. "I can't - not after - He's busy looking for Bucky, and all that shit."

"Tony -"

Tony collapsed into the chair nearest his desk. He let himself sink into its depths, not watching Bruce, not really looking at anything. He felt suddenly overwhelmed. All of this had been a mere distraction, a good distraction but distraction all the same. His usual energy research wasn't going well. The Avengers were too spread out for any really meaningful impact. And here he was, having a semi-breakdown about his ongoing feelings for Captain America. Not that, again, he had _feelings_. It just a thing that he couldn't really explain that occurred to him in the presence of Cap. He felt his skin prickle at the thought. And _yea_ , those were definitely feelings. 

"I don't know how to do this," he said. "I don't -"

"Look, I'm not asking you to propose to him. We don't need that again. But maybe if, as friends, you sat down and talked... Like this... Except..." Bruce glanced at the white board. "No PowerPoints, okay? And no explanations of queer theory, or evolution of queer characters, or why the way you feel means what it means..."

"Okay, okay. I get it."

He let the silence stretch on for what seemed an interminable amount of time. He was thinking about the next time Steve had said he'd be in New York. Friday, wasn't it? Of course, it was. He'd had Pepper pencil it into his schedule. It was the sound of clicking that interrupted his half-formed plans to have Pepper set up some sort of dinner, or maybe he'd do it himself. 

"What are you doing?" he asked, watching as Bruce clicked letters into his horribly outdated phone. If they were going to be best friends, he needed to upgrade that tech.

"Texting Natasha that I've won our bet."

"You placed a bet - on -"

Bruce grinned, and for the first time that day, Tony didn't hate him for it. "Yea, well, it's sort of _obvious_... You have a Cap poster in the lab."

"For morale."

"Right. I forgot. Morale. Look, are we going to talk about the reactor, or do I need to sit through another lecture on your relationship history? Because I have work to do..."   
  
---


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jarvis unintentionally sets Tony up for failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all of the love that the original piece received. It has been over three years since I expressed my frustrations with being queer through a fanfic, and I really am grateful for all of your kudos / comments. Hopefully, this will give you the sort of closure that you wanted. It has been a long time since I watched MCU, and I'm afraid my chronology might be mixed up in my head.

"Steve, I ---"

He wrote the words once, twice, erased them again. Even after his conversation with Bruce, the words _Steve, I'm in love with you_ sounded ridiculous. _Steve Rogers, I'm in love with you_ just wasn't the sort of thing that he, Tony Stark, ought to open with. In fact, of all the very long list of people he'd dated, he'd only said I love you to one (Pepper) and that hadn't gone all that well.

"Sir --"

"Not now, Jarvis." He dropped his phone on the workbench, picking up a socket wrench. "Cap, I --" No, that wouldn't do at all. 

"Sir, I really must --"

"What did I --" He snapped, giving his AI a withering look, which was about the time that he saw, no, Steve standing on the stairs. He swallowed, swung the wrench one more time for good measure, mentally kicking himself for every time that Jarvis had purposefully screwed him over. "Oh, it's you." 

No, he wasn't cursing himself for that opener. Nor was he noticing the slight growth of stubble on Steve's chin, or the way that dark shadows seemed painted under the man's eyes. No, he wasn't staring. _Not at all._ He was the perfect picture of calm, nonchalant everyman, holding a wrench in one hand as though he'd just finished the finishing touches on well, something. 

"Is everything okay down here? Bruce said you two had been talking… I assumed about your research." Steve stepped further into the room, moving from one screen to the next. All of them were projects that they had discussed at one point or another, projects meant to help the Avengers, or Earth, or both simultaneously. 

Despite those conversations, Steve had never had any meaningful interest in the research process. This was Tony's domain, for the most part, and it was that that he fell back on now as he felt his heartbeat ratcheting up with each step Steve took into the room. A steady thump, thump, thumpity thump thump. He breathed, counting backwards from each breath. The scent of winter, pine, and stale aircraft food filled his lungs. 

"It's nothing, Jarvis and I were just looking at one of the suits…" He looked up at the computer screens. "Trying to see if it had sustained any damage in the fight last week. I thought you were in... Where was it? Poland?" His gaze moved from the screen readout of the Iron Man suit to Steve, who was leaning now against one of the workbenches, the edge of his shirt just barely touching the edge of his jeans. He could have calculated the distance between the two fabrics in millimeters, barely there at all. He forced himself to look back at the screen, feeling his hands digging the wrench into his hands and then just as quickly dropping it. 

"Hungary. I thought…" 

"You thought he'd be there?"

There was no response to the question, an unspoken agreement between them. "Any progress with the alternative energy project?" He felt Steve's arm brush against his. They were standing next to each other now, neither really acknowledging the other. 

"Nothing that Bruce couldn't have told you." 

"He didn't."

"Didn't what?" There it was again. Even as he searched through the different screens, he felt his heart racing forward. _What_ had Bruce said? And what hadn't been said? 

"Tell me _why_ you needed to see me." A beat, imploring. "Why it had to be you specifically."

"I -" Here was the moment in which he knew what he should say, in which the words seemed to sit at the very tip of his tongue, in which he swallowed them whole and tried again. "You must be tired after the long flight. SHIELD doesn't have the level of service it used to."

There was a moment in which they looked at each other, casual, uncertain, and then it was gone. "I should check in with the others, first." Then, seemingly before Tony could process what was happening, there was a hand on his hand. "I need you here with me. You know that, right?"

He felt the pulse of the other hand on top of his. He knew what he had to say, but he couldn't. Not now. Not like this. Not _here_. Not with the scent of winter, pine, that hint of stale airplane coaches (a sign of long distance travel) filling his lungs.

"Steve, I --"

He felt chapped, cold lips on his, the slight brush of stubble against his chin. He felt his breath caught in his chest, only able to feel and touch and taste. He couldn't have known how much he needed this, how _right_ Bruce had been. He pulled back until their foreheads were just touching. 

"I might need you, too."


End file.
